


Absent Friends

by KateLouisaRose



Category: Skulduggery Pleasant - Derek Landy
Genre: Mention of Character Death, You know who it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-31
Updated: 2014-03-31
Packaged: 2018-01-17 17:14:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1396018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KateLouisaRose/pseuds/KateLouisaRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Skulduggery and Valkyrie reflect on the loss of a good friend. (Spoilers for Last Stand of Dead Men)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Absent Friends

It wasn’t very comfy, curled up against his bones, elbows and knees falling into gaps in his body that shouldn’t be there. She tucked her head beneath his jaw and rested her chin on his collar bone, fingers running up and down his ribs, drumming a rhythm when she skipped over the intercostal spaces.

Skulduggery sighed, long fingers wrapping around her shoulders. She was warm and soft and living, and he was sharp edges and empty space. He was an immortal being with every disadvantage of a mortal one. He could feel pain, heartbreak, he could he could not sleep or eat or make love. He couldn’t hold the girl he had come to see as his daughter without her disappearing in the folds of empty clothes. He wished he could remember the weight of his tongue in his mouth and lips closing over his white teeth, or drawn back in a smile. He wanted to remember shaving the dark stubble on his chin and the comfort of his wife’s hand in his own. He wanted to laugh without looking like a creature from a child’s dark Halloween dream. 

Skulduggery Pleasant did not give hugs often, because it reminded him of how hollow he was. He didn’t like feeling the absence of a soft, vulnerable body, no matter how soft and vulnerable it had been. It was a strange moment in his life – his afterlife – when he began to miss things like the colour of his eyes, the feeling of having hair and fingernails. He missed how they had just been there, busy existing. It was one thing to miss his lungs and a beating heart, things you could feel working, but it was quite another to miss those parts of him that were, for the most part, purely aesthetic.

Valkyrie wiped her eyes with her hand and looked up at him. Skulduggery’s hollow eye sockets were staring at the wall, his hand was tight on her shoulder; he was still, and quiet but she could hear him thinking. She wished that she could feel him breathing too as she lay against his chest, but his ribs dug into her uncomfortably and he was cold and stiff.

“Tell me a story about Ghastly.” Valkyrie said softly. She wrapped an arm around his middle, the space where his stomach would have been, and felt his hip bones pressing into her side. She kind of liked it, though. Skulduggery gave good hugs not because they were warm or comfortable, but because they made her feel safe. She had dragged herself into this world, but sometimes it was nice to spend a few moments out of it with someone that could understand.

Skulduggery’s house had been cold and lifeless when she had entered it all those years ago, but he had made a few modifications to accommodate his guest. He now had a fully fitted bathroom, and a small bed in one of the bedrooms. The armchair in which he meditated was moved to the corner of the room, and the new sofa was pointed towards a new TV. Skulduggery tried his best to keep the fridge stocked, but Valkyrie wasn’t even sure if he was able to smell when the food was going off so she made do with a few Pot Noodles, a packet of chocolate bourbons and a box of Cheerios whenever she came round. She’d begged him to order pizza once, but they’d had a close call when the pizza boy turned up just as Skulduggery walked past the window not wearing his disguise. Valkyrie had made up a story about an uncle with a rare skin disease and they’d learnt from that mistake.

“What would you like to hear?” Skulduggery asked, and Valkyrie disentangled herself from his embrace and stood up.

“Something happy,” she said. “Tell me something about you and Ghastly that makes you happy.”

“Where are you going?” He asked as Valkyrie stretched slowly.

“Kitchen. Did you remember to buy teabags?”

“It’s possible that it slipped my mind.”

Valkyrie rolled her eyes, but smiled. “How can you not have tea in the house?” She exclaimed. “You utter barbarian.”

“There are hot chocolate sachets in the cupboard. I’m almost certain the kettle is functioning.”

“That’s convincing.”

While she rooted around in the cupboards, Skulduggery sat patiently on the sofa and thought of a story to tell her. He had so many stories to choose from, and it seemed impossible to find the right one among all the terrible things that had happened. Despite everything, though, there had always been a small point of light in even the darkest hours they had spent together. Ghastly Bespoke was a difficult, stubborn man, but no more difficult or stubborn than himself. Skulduggery appreciated his quick wit, his nobility and his insurmountable goodness which prevailed throughout it all.

He hadn’t died a hero’s death. Ghastly had died with a knife in his back and a plea on his lips and he had been buried in a common grave that could never be fit for a man of his character. The only thing that could ever make such an injustice bearable was the power of their memories. Ghastly would live on through them, the Last Dead Men. He would be remembered as the man that had championed a world he had never wanted to be a part of, and won battles he hadn’t wanted to fight.  

Valkyrie returned with a steaming mug and settled back against Skulduggery’s side.

“Got one?” She asked as she sipped at the drink.

Skulduggery looked down at her, this bright, young girl, and he nodded.

“Oh yes,” he said, relaxing into the cushions. “I know just the one.”

He had no eyes, and he had no face; but Valkyrie knew, somehow, that he was smiling.

**Author's Note:**

> It seems I have been sucked back into this world. I don't mind, though. I think I like it here.


End file.
